269 The Trial of the Chosen

“Please,” he choked out. “I beg of you. I will do anything—anything—just let me serve you…”

The sight was unbearable.

Colin and Helen, Marius’ own disciples, could only lower their heads in quiet shame.

Marius had ascended to heights of magic few could ever hope to reach. He should have been honored alongside swordmasters, treated with reverence.

Instead, he had spent his entire life being hunted, feared, and despised.

His dream of restoring the Mage Tower had been his one hope, the only way to reclaim the dignity he had been denied.

But now, even that was gone.

William had no use for him. He had failed to endear himself to William as a person.

He was on the brink of vanishing into obscurity, his name left to rot in history’s forgotten corners.

And so, all he had left was this—humiliating, desperate begging.

The sheer sight of it left even William’s closest retainers speechless.

Felicia clenched her eyes shut.

She could see herself in him.

Had she never met William—had she never achieved anything—she could have ended up just like him, old and broken, kneeling in despair.

A long silence stretched between them before William finally spoke.

“For someone so desperate, you offer nothing.”

Marius flinched. “What?”

“You haven’t said a single word about what you can do for me,” William mused. “How useful you would be. How much I need you. Not long ago, you never shut up about those things.”

“…”

“And I like that.”

William’s voice carried the faintest trace of amusement.

Marius’ head shot up in shock.

The expression that greeted him was no longer cold and indifferent.

William looked down at him with something far softer in his gaze.

“If you had tried to convince me that I needed you, I would have cast you aside immediately,” William admitted. “But you left the decision entirely to me. I respect that.”

“Y-Your Highness…”

“I will give you one last chance.” William’s voice was firm. “Do not disappoint me again.”

Tears spilled from Marius’ eyes.

A lifetime spent running, hiding like a sewer rat, clinging to his pride even as it cost him everything—only now, after throwing it all away, did he finally find a path forward.

A bitter regret twisted in his heart.

I should have let go sooner.

But even as that thought passed, another feeling—overwhelming relief—rushed in.

At least I got one last chance.

“Thank you,” Marius gasped. “Thank you, Your Highness…!”

“Enough groveling,” William said. “You’re under my command now, and I have questions for you.”

“Anything! Ask me anything!”

Fwoosh.

A flickering flame ignited in William’s palm, pulsing with a power that was unmistakably draconic in nature.

His sharp gaze bore into Marius as he asked the one question that mattered.

“This dragon’s magic—how do I use it?”

Ivar found the current situation utterly hopeless.

In both the first and second trials, William had demonstrated an overwhelming superiority, making the gap between him and his competitors painfully obvious. The tribespeople had already accepted his ascension to chieftain as a foregone conclusion.

Under such circumstances, if Ivar attempted to drag William down, no one would support him. Trapped with no way out, he played his final card on the day of the third trial.

“The third trial is a duel,” Ivar declared. “However, it will not be a duel between candidates. Instead, we will be the ones to test you.”

“…Sounds to me like I’m the only one being tested.”

“Exactly.”

Ivar nodded at William’s remark without hesitation.

“You have already been chosen by the Dragon. A man like that competing for the position of chieftain is a farce. However, we too have the right to choose our ruler.”

“So you’re saying I should beat all of you into submission to prove my worth as a leader?”

“If one who possesses the Dragon’s Heart cannot even defeat those of us who have only obtained fragments of its power, then perhaps the Dragon’s choice was a mistake. Wouldn’t you agree?”

If, by some miracle, one of them managed to defeat William, it would cast doubt on the Dragon’s judgment.

With a brazen expression, Ivar looked as though he expected no argument against this self-evident logic.

William couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of his opponent’s feigned composure.

‘Pathetic. Then again, what choice does he have? At this point, a duel is the only option left to deal with me.’

William’s journey had been nothing short of legendary. Combined with Marius’s careful preparations, he had seemed less like a man and more like a figure pulled straight from myth.

It had allowed him to effortlessly sway the hearts of the tribespeople, but in doing so, it had also raised their expectations to an absurd degree.

Even if the trial was unfair for an ordinary warrior, when it came to William, they considered it a suitable test of his abilities.

He was, after all, the man who commanded the strongest warriors and bore the Dragon’s Heart. A trial of this nature should be nothing more than a trivial challenge.

‘He knows that if he forces me down, the tribespeople won’t accept it. So he’s disguising it as a test instead. Not bad for a plan concocted in a single day.’

Tales of a lone warrior defeating multiple opponents were as common as dust. Even if it seemed unfair, considering William’s reputation, it wasn’t an unreasonable trial.

Moreover, Ivar and his two sons had absorbed fragments of the Dragon’s magic. Even with the Dragon’s Heart in his possession, William supposed they believed they had a fighting chance if they threw everything they had at him.

“Hm, now that I think about it, the chieftain makes a fair point,” someone muttered.

“A challenger to legend should face a trial worthy of his power.”

“To be honest, I’ve been curious to see just how strong the Dragon’s power really is.”

As expected, the tribespeople didn’t protest Ivar’s proposal. If anything, they welcomed it eagerly.

William shrugged under their expectant gazes.

“Fine. But just to be clear—are all of you attacking me at once?”

“Even one blessed by the Dragon’s Heart finds it difficult to face three warriors at the same time, it seems.”

“No, I just think it would be over faster that way. Fighting one at a time is a bit tedious.”

Ivar clenched his teeth at William’s casual remark.

Was this confidence or sheer bravado? It was impossible to tell.

“Unfortunately for you, you will be facing one opponent at a time in consecutive battles. A warrior does not strike another’s back.”

What utter nonsense.

They were simply stalling for time, observing his fighting style to uncover a weakness.